


Catharsis

by LaughableLament



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bossy Dean, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Manhandling, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26141245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughableLament/pseuds/LaughableLament
Summary: They got the monster but they lost a vic. Sam saw something he doesn’t want to talk about, so all Dean knows is this: push Sam, let Sam push, push back.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 121





	Catharsis

Dean puts Sam up against the motel room door. Kid’s head thunks the metal, legs spread, willing. Dean presses with his thigh, grinds Sam’s crotch past the point of strictly pleasure. Sam’s lips stretch in a grimace. Sweat slides down his neck like they didn’t just come in from the cold.

He kisses Sam. All-out collision of tongues and teeth and lips as Sam grips the back of Dean’s head and tilts his chin so they fit damn-near tonsil-to-tonsil. Dean tears himself loose and rips Sam’s coat down his arms. Crushes him while he’s helpless, fighting his wrists free. Dean noses up Sam’s neck, hovering, feels Sam wriggle against him.

They got the monster but they lost a vic. Sam saw something he doesn’t want to talk about, so all Dean knows is this: push Sam, let Sam push, push back.

Uncoordinated cooperation gets them naked to the waist. Bare chests slap as Sam’s back smacks the door.

“Get on your knees,” Dean growls in his mouth and Sam _snaps_ , clicks his teeth. Dean winds fingers in the smooth strands of Sam’s hair and yanks. Hiss and a wince and he follows through with light suction and tongue right where Sam’s throat turns into his shoulder.

Sam grabs Dean’s wrists. Tries for the reversal but Dean out-grapples him. Sam scowls, arms pinned high above his head but he melts when Dean grinds with his thigh again.

“Get _on_ your _knees_.”

Sam’s turn to growl.

“Be good for me.” Dean softens, turns Sam’s wrists loose. Palms all the way down past Sam’s ribs. He gropes Sam’s ass through his jeans, pulls him close so they feel each other.

Sam hooks his elbows on Dean’s shoulders. Bumps their foreheads.

Dean licks his teeth and plumps his lips. Flicks his eyes. Down, up. Tilts his head: _Well?_

Sam’s half-grin and head-shake combo is a thing of beauty going down. He undoes Dean’s belt, looks up like he’s gonna try to prove something. Dean grins. Plants one palm on the door, next to the peephole. Cups the other against Sam’s cheek. They trade soft-eyed smirks and Sam nestles. Turns his face toward Dean’s hand, presses a kiss to his palm, and then strips Dean to the knees like he’s on fast-forward.

Dean contracts in the sudden draft but it’s full sails two seconds later, by which time Sam’s gobbled down two thirds of his dick and is busy freeing his own diamond hard-on from his pants.

 _Don’t thrust_. Dean concentrates. Sam’s tongue ripples, wraps around. He backs off to the head and rolls his neck, slobbering, fondling Dean with his lips. Dean thumps the door, weak knees, jungle heat. Sam startles, sucks him sharp. Eyes like whiskey on rocks in the low light. Dean thumbs Sam’s cheekbone, presses in the hollow where his jaw’s wedged open.

Sam sinks. Barely chokes on cock anymore but Dean still holds his head while he gags and swallows. Sam’s dick leaks when he gets his face fucked. Fingers dig in Dean’s hips. Sam bobs, sets his pace and Dean takes over. Tears streak Sam’s face and his moans buzz up Dean’s spine between spasms.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Dean mutters. Doesn’t want to come like this. He hauls Sam up. Salt on Sam’s tongue, slick when they kiss. “Come on.” Dean drapes his arms on Sam’s shoulders, cradles his jaws. “Gotta check you for injuries.”

Sams scoffs, thread of actual amusement. Dean hitches up his pants, takes Sam’s arm and leads him like an invalid to bed.

“Better get those jeans off.”

“Dean…”

Waggles eyebrows. Sam relents. Dean makes quick work of his shoes, goes slow like molasses sliding his pants down. Goosebumps dust Sam’s thighs and his dick pulses, shiny like _he’s_ the one got the blow job. He perches on the bed edge, helps Dean strip him. Boxers, jeans, and socks land in a heap.

“On your back,” Dean says, and digs the lube out of his duffel while Sam huffs but gets situated.

Off-center. Dean leaves himself wide open for the obvious trap. He barely gets both knees on the bed before Sam flips them, straddles Dean’s hips, grinds down and drags them both against Dean’s zipper. Dean bounces him like Magic Fingers but vibrates for real when Sam curls up and starts sucking a nipple.

“Holy—” Dean cuts off as Sam swirls, warm and wet.

Rhythm in his suction, nursing like a newborn while he rides Dean’s lap like a Tijuana stripper. Fucks him up every time, and he rests his thumbs in Sam’s hip grooves and lets Sam move. Gives over to the sparkling, shivery cold where Sam leaves one nipple hard and wet and straining while he works the other. Strong teeth, soft tongue and sharp lips. Dean humps hard. Flex and reflex. Sam slides in a hand, makes Dean hiss at the first brush.

“Oh, no.” Bruising grip on Sam’s wrist.

Eyebrows shoot up.

“No happy ending ’til I’m in that ass.”

Nostrils flare.

“Don’t act like you don’t want it,” Dean breathes. Bends Sam’s arm to an awkward, not-yet-painful angle. “Blow that load, stuffed full of my dick?”

Sam draws a wobbly breath and Dean strikes. Plants him on his back and foils his protests with a brutal kiss. Teeth crash; Dean gets a little bloody but it’s worth it. Sam hooks his arms and legs and hangs on. Dean smiles in his mouth. They ain’t always gotta talk about their crap to get through it.

He lets Sam buck himself out. Tugs on his hair and kisses him sloppy. Once Sam stills, Dean attacks his neck. Soft moan makes Dean’s dick jump but he sticks to the plan: drags with his tongue, rakes with his teeth. Drifts to his favorite dip, between Sam’s collarbones, divot where his sweat collects. He pauses, bare hint of teasing breath washes Sam’s skin.

He puts his mouth on every inch of Sam’s torso. Scrapes teeth on the ridges and licks in the dips. Mutters how hot Sam is, how smart, how brave. He sucks Sam’s nipples until Sam beats fists on the bed and shoves his crotch up.

“Fuck, get on with it,” Sam rasps.

Dean buries his smirk in Sam’s navel, tongues in a circle. Abs twitch under his lips and precome smears his chin. He holds Sam’s hips down, pins him while he swirls around Sam’s head, licks him like an all-day sucker with his mouth wide, tongue out, slobbering.

Sam fights Dean’s grip. Thrashes. Dean gives him more. Wets his lips and plants a messy, open-mouthed kiss on Sam’s root. Digs with his tongue and drags all up Sam’s underside. Sam buzzes. Dean breaks contact long enough to locate and squeeze a load of lube. He nods sideways but Sam shakes his head, pulls his legs up. Long fingers hook his shins.

Sam bodyrolls. Dean covers one of Sam’s hands and slips his fingers in—one, two. Sam drags air through his teeth, draws him deeper.

“Needy,” Dean chuckles and Sam grits,

“Fuck y—” and goes nonverbal; Dean twists inside him and tickles just right. Sam dribbles down his dick. Quick, quiet moans tumble out, pitch up to keening when Dean goes three.

His jeans have drooped down to his knees; shorts cling below his ass cheeks. Belt buckle clinks when they shake the bed. Both waistbands cut Dean’s thighs. “You ready?”

Dopey, “Yeah.”

He fucks Sam with his boots on. Lines up; Sam’s face slacks, thighs go lax. Sam surrenders. Dean breaches him, heat so familiar, scalds the same as the very first time.

“Sammy.” Only word he knows.

They rush together like floodwaters. Bed banging against the wall punctuates Dean’s thrusts. Sam tilts into him, grunts through gritted teeth and paws Dean’s chest. Gleams with sweat. Dean hoists him, spears him deep, hooks one of Sam’s legs over a shoulder and feather-light, skates his thumb behind Sam’s cockhead. Sam pulses, leaks a string. Dean barely has to get a grip and he blows. Clenching hole pulls Dean down with him. Yelling. Rhythm fails, Dean stutters in him. Pumps him fuller, hotter, wetter. Dean’s thighs burn, blood races and he pitches forward. Pants into Sam’s chest. Sam moans.

Showers later, sacking out in separate beds stings, probably more than it should. Bathroom light burns. Dean stares at the water-stained ceiling above his bed. Brown rippled waves radiate from the site of an old leaky pipe. Sam fakes sleep-breathing, close as either one of them will probably get tonight.

He’s sore—dumb, throwing Sam around like that, but Sam’s gotta be sore too, fucked raw, finger-bruised. Dean rubs a knot in his arm, forces his eyes closed. Fixates on the picture of Sam’s pink lips stretched taut and shining on his dick.

They’ll talk on the road.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post here](https://laughablelament.tumblr.com/post/627631155202637824/catharsis-e-15k-pwp-established-wincest)


End file.
